Waking to rain. Cheek on the windshield.
I made myself promise that this time, I would leave a trail for one to follow. And if I lost myself in logic, I would know a song to sing.
When a heart decides to make or fail - a love, red or pale. The widest wings are given to those who wish to fly towards the sun.
And so I strive to survive this spotted, broken sleep. Thoughts so lost and boundless. Every dream devoid of meaning.
A prophet of human error is all I am. Perhaps a rain-check for thunder?
Because one wipe of sunlight is all I need.
No comments:
Post a Comment